


Beauty in the Reflection of A Blade

by BasicallyAnIdiot



Series: HCS Week 2021 [3]
Category: Pocket Monsters: Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire | Pokemon Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire Versions, Pocket Monsters: Ruby & Sapphire & Emerald | Pokemon Ruby Sapphire Emerald Versions
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Conquering a continent is easy, Conqueror!Steven, Gen, Keeping it is hard, Lady!May, Sort Of, fantasy!au, same age au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29221938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BasicallyAnIdiot/pseuds/BasicallyAnIdiot
Summary: Petalburg had been a thorn in his plan to unite the eight kingdoms of the continent; creating hurdle after hurdle for his army to overcome. Steven had no desire to stay in his newest province any longer than he had to.He had even less desire to fight its fiercest warrior for the hand of a woman he had never met.
Relationships: Haruka | May/Tsuwabuki Daigo | Steven Stone
Series: HCS Week 2021 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137617
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33
Collections: HCS 2021





	Beauty in the Reflection of A Blade

**Author's Note:**

> So I completely forgot I actually had something written for today. XD
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy my take on the 'Royalty' Prompt!

**Beauty in the Reflection of A Blade**

Petalburg’s size would lead an uneducated man to think the small province harmless. Forests, clinging to the summer greens even as the air began to bite in the mornings, stretched from the mountains near Rustboro to the coastline of Dewford. From the room Steven had been given he could see the handful of small towns and farms that dotted the clearings here and there. Closer to the red stone keep, two sets of walls wider than a man was tall and higher than the trees around it. One wall separated the keep proper from the town around it, the other the town from the woods. Petalburg shouldn’t have even been considered for this, the next step in solidifying his empire.

It was a third the size of Evergrande. Just one of the newest provinces to his Empire. A quaint little place; tiny; minuscule; a footnote. The army just as small the kingdom had been. His advisors had believed they would be able to break the back of the west in the span of a couple months.

Instead, Petalburg had brought his army to a standstill for two years.

Now that it was a province, he was beginning to learn how they had managed such a feat. He had assumed the infighting between the Western kingdoms to have been deeply entrenched and would prevent them from coming together. He had been correct- mostly. The kingdoms wouldn’t have come together- not on their own. No, it had taken Petalburg’s Champion to rally them. It had been Petalburg that had rushed to the aid of Mauville, seeing what Steven had planned before the rest and fought hard to prevent it from coming to pass. It had been Petalburg that brought together Rustboro and Dewford and Fallabor as a united front. It had been its Champion that sent his advisors into fits.

And now, to keep his empire, Steven would have to defeat the man in combat.

Drawing back from the window, he regarded his closest advisor. Wallace had claimed the room’s couch, stretching out on it with a book likely pilfered from the library they had toured yesterday. Dressed in Sootopolis silk, Wallace played his part as the absentminded playboy far too well even if it was all for naught. Their hosts wouldn’t forget it was his counsel that had allowed Steven to conquer their lands. “Have you heard anything about this Champion?”

Wallace hummed, setting the book on his chest as he regarded his emperor. “Little I’m afraid. The Champion arrived late last night and he is apparently ‘madder than a kicked bearhornets nest’ about your arrangement with Lord Norman.”

Steven nodded and moved to the armchair in front of the fireplace as his friend sat up and closed his book. Ancient tapestries hung around the room depicting the myths of old, but his eye was drawn to the tapestry in the place of pride above the fireplace mantle. The craftsmanship was unparalleled, and the great emerald sky dragon seemed almost lifelike against the storm clouds trimmed in silver. “There are other daughters of noble houses. The price for this one seems steep.”

It was a thought that had rolled around his head for days. Lord Norman, brother to a king Steven himself had slayed, had one daughter though her whereabouts were unknown. Secreted away the rumours said, to ensure some of the Petalburg blood survived had the war gone badly- or worse than it was.

“Is your motto not, ‘anything worth having is worth fighting for’?” Wallace mused aloud. “Petalburg is the spirit of the west and aided its neighbours where it could. No western province would dare raise a hand against the daughter of Lord Norman and risk slighting him. Marry her and none of them will act against you by the same breath. Too much honour in this part of the empire. The woman gives you an heir or two and the empire sees a dynasty.”

“Politics.” Steven breathed with a sigh, “I’m doing this because of politics.”

“I’m reasonably sure that as our illustrious Emperor-King, who united these lands into the Hoenn, stands as the gods’ will on this earth, etcetera, etcetera, your entire life is politics.”

“Thank you, Wallace, for the reminder. I’m sure it will keep me company as I battle one of the fiercest warriors to grace the empire for the hand of a woman I’ve never met.”

“You’re welcome, Your Majesty. I’m told you should watch out for the pointy end of the sword.”

Steven huffed a laugh. “That might be difficult if the rumours are true.” His eyes drifted back to the emerald scales trimmed with what likely real gold. “The youngest man to ever master the Sky Dragon style. They say he was eighteen when the title was granted. It will be a challenge to defeat that.”

His friend spoke resolutely, teasing gone from his tone. “And you did the impossible and brought together eight warring kingdoms for a peace the land has never known before. You will not fail.”

“Yes,” Steven agreed quietly, eyes on the golden gaze of the dragon, “I suppose that’s true.”

~*~*~*~

The training courtyard of the keep was almost entirely deserted when Steven arrived with his entourage. Engagement bouts, a peculiar tradition known only to the Petalburg province, were private family affairs after all. A measure of commitment from the proposing party Lord Norman had explained. It hadn’t escaped Steven’s notice that the man’s pleasant mood had vanished around the time the marriage had been suggested.

Lord Norman was a tall, thin man that carried himself with a deep-seated sense of pride that never broached arrogance. In the afternoon sun, his expression was as severe as it had been when he signed the papers formally adding Petalburg to the empire. When the throne of the keep became Steven’s and a new chair was added on the tier below it from which the lord would act on Steven’s behalf in the province. Lord Norman had pledged his loyalty and that was enough. At the time.

Beside him Lady Caroline was a spot of sunshine to her Lord’s shadow. Her smile seemed tight, and her hands were clasped in front of her, fidgeting only ever so slightly. Worried then, though there were no other signs.

Steven took a moment to adjust his gauntlet. Wallace stood to his side, carrying his helm and sword. The Lord of Sootopolis walked around to stand in front of his friend, hiding his face from the Petalburg party, and handed the sword to his emperor-king. “The servants say Lord Norman has placed 50 gold crowns on the Champion’s victory. They also say the Champion did not sleep well last night and rose early today. I hope you will make me a very rich man, my king.”

“Thank you, Wallace.” Steven murmured, not quite hiding his smile, accepting his silver and gold helm and fitting it to place.

The training yard was quiet. His opponent appeared like a ghost; silently emerging from the dining hall used by the squires and knights of the keep. The armour he wore lacked the decoration Steven had long associated with named opponents. Only the plume on the helm had a splash of colour. Long strands dyed emerald green he noted.

It did not reassure him. The Champion walked smoothly, armour somehow not making a sound as he did, likely magicked that way. He was shorter than Steven expected, perhaps by a head. Somehow, he doubted that was an advantage he could use.

The Champion drew his sword and Steven nearly started. The blade shimmered with dragonfire, flashing between blues and green and reds as the Champion spun it lazily with one hand. There was something on the hilt- a beast of some sort- but it was too far away to make out what it was. Behind him, Wallace gasped.

A dragonforged sword, strong and sharp enough to cleave through almost anything. Gifted only to great masters of the blade and as rare as summer snow. He had no idea Petalburg even had such an heirloom. Small wonder Lord Norman had bet the equivalent of a families’ yearly wages on this fight. Had Steven not had his own magecrafted blade and suit of armour, he would have forfeited immediately.

“Ready?” Lord Norman called, “You will fight to first hit.” Steven watched as the Champion saluted his lord with that exquisite sword. He only nodded.

“Very well. Begin.”

The Champion closed the gap faster than Steven had thought possible. He barely brought his blade up in time to block the blow. His arm ached. Throwing the man back with a grunt of effort, Steven pressed his assault. He gritted his teeth, his arms aching. Best not let the man land another blow.

It was like trying to hit the wind. The Champion dodged and weaved around every strike- dancing out of the way at the last second.

Sparks flew when the Champion suddenly changed tactics and blocked instead of dodging. The hilt of his sword held close enough to Steven for him to make out the deep emerald green dragon head. Beautiful. A beautiful sword. Steven took the opportunity to sweep a kick.

The Champion jumped back and Steven took the moment to catch his breath. Then the fight was on again. Strike after strike dodged or blocked. He was getting nowhere.

Suddenly his opponent rolled to the side, coming up just out of his reach, blade aiming true. Instinct had him moving before the danger had registered, stepping back. The blade slicing air as the Champion overextended with a curse. Steven moved quickly. Bringing his blade in an upwards sweep to knock the other sword out of the Champion’s hand.

The Champion kept his grip on his sword, but sacrificed his balance to manage it. With a final push of effort, Steven leveled his sword against the edge of the Champion’s helm. “Yield.”

It was a long moment. Long enough that Steven thought his opponent might try to keep going. He could. Technically, no hit had been managed. His opponent probably had at least three different ways to to bat his sword away. This fight wasn’t over even as Steven’s heart pounded hard enough to rattle his teeth. But engagement bouts weren’t about winning, not really. It was finding out how far someone would go for their partner. Steven would press on, but only if he had to. Only if that would confirm what Lord Norman wanted to see.

Finally, the Champion nodded. He stepped back and sheathed his sword.

Relief filled Steven. Carefully, fighting the adrenaline shakes in his hands, he sheathed his own sword and removed his helm to breathe. The fall air cooled the sweat on his face, instantly chilling the heat of the spar. Running a gauntlet through his hair, he loosen the sweat matted strands.

The Champion tilted his head, watching him.

Steven regarded him in turn, respect only building at the way the man didn’t even seem winded from their bout. “I am glad you and I never met on a battlefield.” He accepted the water pouch from Wallace and took a gulp. “And that sword- extraordinary.”

His opponent nodded, then turned to Lord Norman. The man looked even more displeased than he had before, “And?”

The Champion paused, then nodded. Lord Norman’s expression entered a new level of displeasure. His opponent ignored his lord and turned back to Steven, slowly taking off his helm.

Long brown bangs fell to either side of a heart shaped face, bright blue eyes blinking at the sudden sunlight. Lord Norman’s nose was apparent, but it was Lady Caroline in the softness of the smile: a wiry thing, two parts amused and one part resigned. She took a deep breath, flushed with the exertion of their fight.

Surprise didn’t even begin to cover the thoughts racing through Steven’s mind as the woman, Lord Norman’s daughter, the Lady May but also Petalburg’s Pride, its Champion that had rallied the West and had proven a great problem to his conquest, shook out her hair. With the sunlight, and flushed cheeks, and the sheer ability with the precision of her technique-

She was perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

The Lady May regarded Steven once more, eyes running up and down him, looking for something. Her curt nod suggested she must have found it. She spoke clearly for all in the silent courtyard to hear, “He’ll do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say 'hi' on[ Tumblr!](https://basicallyanidiot.tumblr.com/)


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